With a young rescue dog in the house, quiet time to write is at a premium - so sometimes it's best to just admit defeat and let your afternoon "go to the dogs".
Today's training with my Partner in Grime (my husband EJ) and Sunny was catching a ball from a prone position. Though she's 14 months old she lived in a crate for 10 months so she's a bit behind in social skills and training but is quite smart and eager to please.
So my husband decided to slay it, once and for all. So after I got done with a week of work in DC (the meeting that would not die) it started. It took a couple of evenings after work , most of one weekend, and numerous sandwiches, but it's done.
We didn't find a job of prohibition-era moonshine like we did when the front porch was rebuilt, but there was a maple tree trying its best to grow in there and a bunch of catnip (which explains the stoned long-hair car we'd find lounging on the dog elevator ramp, totally obvious to the fact dogs live here),.
Now to get rid of the remains. Maybe it just needs the right sign.
OK Sunny, let me explain how this "fetch" thing works.
To celebrate the fourth - A jaunt around the neighborhood to work on leash skills (during the five weeks of the Illinois 13-year Cicada swarm, leash training went out the window).
It's a whole BOX of treats! From my favorite place Chewy!
